


What Reaches Back

by Laylah



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Addiction, Begging, Bondage, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-16
Updated: 2007-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s almost a game, the waiting, watching Kimberly try to hold onto his self-respect when he craves the hot crimson power buried under Greed’s skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Reaches Back

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reach into the Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/223746) by [Laylah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah). 



Things have been different around the Nest since Kimberly figured it out. The alchemist has been quieter, less obnoxious, more...hungry. The terms have changed, now that they both know Greed has something he wants.

The change suits Greed just fine. He’s seen addiction plenty of times in his long years — it goes well with all the pleasures he enjoys. But never, until now, has he known anyone to wind up dependent on _him_ like this.

Some days, just to prove he can do it, he avoids Kimberly entirely. His alchemist shakes, twitches, snarls and pleads by turns when he comes back. It’s almost a game, the waiting, watching Kimberly try to hold onto his self-respect when he craves the hot crimson power buried under Greed’s skin.

Greed wonders if Envy felt like this about him, when they were young. It’s not enough to make him forgive the bastard, but god, it makes him understand.

“Greed,” Kimberly says hoarsely. His eyes burn with fever, with need, flat yellow like sand under scorching desert sun. He doesn’t have to ask, anymore. They both know the question too well.

“It’s going to cost you,” Greed says, leaning back against the sofa, not letting go of the girl tucked under his arm.

“I know,” Kimberly says. Of course he knows. Greed can hear the second layer of meaning, under the spoken words: _I’ll pay whatever you demand._ It’s the closest he gets to an addiction himself, that rush of power. Knowing what comes next.

“Then I’ll meet you upstairs.” There’s an unspoken second part to his answer, too: _When I’m ready._ He smiles, watching Kimberly struggle and — this time — manage to control the urge to beg.

What Kimberly has to offer is sweeter than anything the whores at the Nest can give him. Sometimes Greed can hold out for a little while, pretend to be interested in something, _anything_ , other than the chance to take his alchemist apart.

But not tonight.

He says good night to Kitty or Karen or whatever her name is, and climbs the narrow dark stairs to the private rooms above the Devil’s Nest. Kimberly is taking his shirt off when Greed opens the door to his room; his jacket already hangs over the back of the chair.

“Not wasting any time, are you?” Greed asks, fascinated with the shadows that make it possible for him to count Kimberly’s vertebrae. The light from the one little lamp is weak and yellow, and it burnishes Kimberly’s skin to gold.

“You’ve gotten predictable,” Kimberly says coolly, refusing to turn around. He drops his shirt on the floor next to the bed, and kicks his shoes off.

“Have I?” Greed tosses his vest onto the chair, and picks up Kimberly’s suspenders, toying with them as he watches Kimberly push his pants down and off his hips. “Maybe I’ll have to do something about that.”

Kimberly snorts derisively. “You trying to tell me you didn’t come in here to fuck?” His eyes glitter in the lamplight, and his posture says he has nothing to be afraid of. Greed can’t help admiring that confidence, at least a little. Kimberly has no illusions about what this is.

He just isn’t giving Greed enough credit.

“Let me see your hands,” Greed says.

“Why?” Kimberly asks, wary, his shoulders tensing.

Greed waits, not answering. Kimberly needs this too much to be stingy in what he’ll pay, and they both know it.

“Prick,” Kimberly says eventually, holding out his hands, displaying the arrays. He stiffens further when Greed traps both of his wrists in one hand, and actually tries to pull away when Greed wraps his suspenders around his wrists and ties them tight. “No,” Kimberly hisses, struggling, his eyes wide. “No, fuck you, no.”

Prison, Greed realizes. Of course being bound is terrifying after that. But he’s not about to relent, either, now that he’s made the demand. “Yes,” he says, moving with Kimberly, not letting him get any distance between them. “My terms. Take them or leave them.” Kimberly backs up against the bed and loses his balance, and it’s only Greed’s strength that keeps him from falling.

“I hate you,” Kimberly whispers. But that’s still not quite the same thing as _no_.

Greed smiles. “But you’re still going to spread your legs, aren’t you?” He has to tighten his grip when that makes Kimberly surge toward him again, trying to lay hands on him and turn him inside out, but his smile never fades.

Kimberly quits fighting abruptly, going limp and letting Greed push him back onto the bed, his eyes unfocused and distant. Greed feels a prickle of alchemic power down his spine, a warning as energy starts to pulse with Kimberly’s intent.

“None of that,” he warns, nipping at Kimberly’s throat. The tingling stops as soon as his teeth graze flesh, and he laughs. “I’m going to have to keep you distracted, hmm?” No answer, just harsh gasping breaths, and Kimberly’s arms trembling as Greed ties him to the headboard.

He looks pretty spread out like this, too, long limbs and the flat planes of his chest and stomach, his head turned as he stares resolutely at the wall. Greed sits up to admire him properly. “Look at me.”

Kimberly turns his head, actually looking at Greed for barely half a second before his gaze slides off toward the corner of the room again. “It’s never enough for you, is it?”

“You ever get enough of what you need?” Greed asks, reaching down to pick up Kimberly’s shirt off the floor.

“Never,” Kimberly concedes, flexing his trapped hands. He still won’t look Greed in the eyes. And if he won’t look where Greed wants him to, well, why let him see anything at all?

Greed tears the thin black fabric of Kimberly’s shirt, watching as the sound makes Kimberly tense again, eyes flickering toward him. “You’re paying attention to all the wrong things,” Greed murmurs, leaning down to wrap the strip of cloth around Kimberly’s eyes and tie it tight.

“You bastard,” Kimberly whispers, shaking, not quite resisting. “You fucking bastard.”

“Mmm, not yet,” Greed purrs. “But soon.” He can feel the spark of alchemy in his veins again, Kimberly trying to pull him apart, and he rakes his claws down his alchemist’s sides, over the arch of his ribcage. Kimberly shivers, and the pull of his alchemy dissolves into fine little threads of electricity, fading away through Greed’s limbs.

“Feels good, does it?” Greed asks softly. Kimberly makes an angry little spitting noise, so Greed leans down and bites at his collarbone, hard enough that he just barely tastes the raw salt-copper-power tang of blood. Kimberly holds unnaturally still and almost, _almost_ manages to stay silent.

Greed purrs with delight, pulling up enough that he can admire the little pinprick marks his teeth have left, and then leans back in to lick them. One diamond-hard, clawed hand slides down to wrap around Kimberly’s cock. Kimberly’s only half-hard — already half-hard, maybe, Greed’s not sure which — and he makes another angry sound when Greed touches him, like he doesn’t want to like it.

How can he survive like this, so hostile and resentful at the prospect of wanting anything? “Nice,” Greed says, stroking slow and hard, feeling his alchemist respond despite himself. “Make more noise.”

Predictably, it makes Kimberly _quiet_ for him to ask — makes him swallow the moans, just hissing a sharp, alarmed breath when Greed leans down and licks experimentally at the head of his cock. He trembles, breathing fast, and Greed pushes his legs apart with careful claws.

Greed licks again, then pulls up and blows gently, watching Kimberly shiver at the cool air ghosting over the wet head of his cock, watching goosebumps form on lean thighs. He can see Kimberly struggling to stay silent, to hold out on him, and he smiles.

“Change your mind?” he asks. “Feels like you don’t really want it. Should I just leave you alone?” He stops moving, waits for Kimberly to realize the question is not rhetorical.

“No,” Kimberly grinds out through clenched teeth, and his hunger for the stone laps at Greed’s nerves again. “No, don’t leave me alone.”

“Then make it worth my time.” Greed leans down, opening his mouth wide, and takes all of Kimberly’s cock down his throat. That works, at last, makes Kimberly choke out a shocked little sob, his hips jerking upward as Greed pulls back. Greed moans encouragement, his tongue teasing the sensitive ridge where crown meets shaft, and takes it deep again.

“F-fuck,” Kimberly gasps, thrusting upward like he wants Greed to choke. “You bastard, oh god, you bastard.”

“Mmm.” Greed lets him move, doesn’t fight it at all. Kimberly can’t hurt him like this, hips rocking, thighs flexing under Greed’s hands, angry pleasure sounds escaping his throat almost involuntarily. Nothing makes Kimberly more frustrated, more helpless, than being confronted with his own desires.

If he’s reading this right, the steady motion as Kimberly fucks his throat, his alchemist is trying to get this over with. As if this will be _over_ once Kimberly comes.

He’s not giving Greed enough credit at all.

Greed lets himself get a little careless, lets the sharp points of his teeth just graze Kimberly’s skin. That’s all it takes, that threat, that hint of pain. When he feels Kimberly’s cock pulse against his tongue, Greed pulls up, letting go, watching as Kimberly trembles and comes, untouched, across his own stomach.

“Beautiful,” Greed says, his hands sliding through the mess, smearing it over Kimberly’s skin.

“Now?” Kimberly asks, teeth bared, tossing his head like he’s trying to get the blindfold off. He doesn’t actually try it, though; his power doesn’t touch the core of red stone in Greed’s chest.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Greed says. He reaches for the oil. “I haven’t had mine yet.”

Kimberly tenses, wiry muscles drawing tight against his bonds, and then goes limp when Greed slides slick fingers into the crack of his ass. “Hate you,” he gasps, teeth bared, when Greed presses the first into him. “Fuck, stop it.” Greed pushes deep, stroking inside. “Hurts.”

“That never stops you,” Greed says, not stopping, stretching his beautiful trapped junkie alchemist, needing this — for a second — almost as badly as Kimberly does. “I want you to come with my cock in your ass.”

“You’re not, hh, that good,” Kimberly pants, sweat and come glistening on his skin as he tries to stop himself from responding to the press and thrust of Greed’s fingers.

Greed laughs. “Then you’re going to be in trouble,” he says, withdrawing his fingers and pushing Kimberly’s knees up toward his chest. “Because I’m going to fuck you until you do.” He pushes, and Kimberly yields despite himself, hot and clutching tight around Greed’s cock, incredibly, deliciously smooth.

“I’m going to kill you,” Kimberly promises, bound hands flexing and straining unconsciously for anything they can destroy.

“You always do,” Greed purrs. “But not until you’ve paid for it.” He thrusts hard, savoring the hitch in Kimberly’s breath, the muffled sound almost like a sob at the end of each stroke. Despite the curses and complaints and protests, Kimberly’s getting hard again.

“Hurts like you want it to, doesn’t it?” Greed asks. “Like you need it to. It’s not worth getting fucked if you don’t get hurt.”

Kimberly’s power laps at his senses, aching, pulling. Greed wraps his claws around his alchemist’s throat and squeezes, sharp points pricking skin.

“Please,” Kimberly chokes, fighting to speak. “I can’t like this — I need it — please, Greed, you fucking prick, let me do it –”

Greed moans, the force of Kimberly’s desperation making him ache, making tension gather tight and hot at the base of his cock — “Don’t stop,” he growls, “don’t stop don’t stop,” flexing his hand just to hear Kimberly choke, to feel the survival instinct override the addict’s self-loathing as Kimberly thrashes and tries to buck him off, and — “now,” Greed moans, “now, come now,” and he comes as Kimberly’s raw need tears through him, stripping the life from his very bones, as Kimberly arches under him, snarling —

When he recovers, the room is dark, and Kimberly’s thighs are trembling under his weight.

“Move,” Kimberly says. “If I let you fall I won’t be able to breathe.” His voice sounds distant, dreamy, and the room reeks of blood and ash.

Greed pulls out. He has maybe ten minutes before the high wears off enough for Kimberly to get unpleasant again. “Very nice,” he says. “You blew the lamp again?”

“Mmm,” Kimberly agrees. “Cheap bulbs just can’t take much.” His mouth is slack and permissive when Greed kisses him, and he makes another perfect little noise when Greed unties his suspenders from the bedframe. It would almost — _almost_ — be nice to have him this compliant all the time.

“Good night, Kimberly,” Greed says as he collects his things. “See you tomorrow.”

He lets himself out.


End file.
